


love means nothing (except when i'm with you)

by profound_garden



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tennis, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-03-19 14:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profound_garden/pseuds/profound_garden
Summary: "She was a professional, and even the internet knew it. Those three words let anyone who looked her up know just who Amberle Elessedil was — a tennis player, and a good one at that. This Rover girl wouldn’t stand a chance. Nothing was going to throw Amberle off her game."or, Amberle is an uptight pro tennis player who meets rebellious up-and-coming star Eretria Rover on tour, and maybe they fall in love and win some games along the way.





	1. intro

**Author's Note:**

> so...i was playing tennis the other day after a fanfic binge and i couldn't get this au out of my head. disclaimer: i actually do play tennis, so if some of the jargon is too obscure just drop a comment saying so and i'll try to add more explanation. also i've never actually watched this show but i've seen tumblr gifsets, read some fanfics of the pairing, and watched some youtube clips. correct me if something is up, and it's very possible they might be slightly ooc.

“Match! Ellesedil, 6-4, 6-1.”

Amberle sighed in relief after her opponent slammed one final shot into the net. After shaking hands and exchanging the obligatory bland smile with the other girl and the official, she quickly packed her bag and started walking off the court.

“Amb! Wait!”

She turned around to see Wil, grinning as he jogged over.

“Hey, great match. How are you feeling?” He looked her over approvingly. “Ready for the final qualifiers?”

“I’m fine. My form, though…” she sighed. “Did you see my forehand in the first set? Sloppy. You think it’s something to do with my elbow? I think it keeps staying up when I swing.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Amberle. You just won your 8th consecutive match. You’re headed to the qualifiers for the Australian Open. Your ranking is great. Just relax for now! Don’t get bogged down with mechanics, live in the moment!”

He danced around her, a goofy grin on his face, and inadvertently reminded Amberle why she chose her best friend to be her coach.

“Okay,” she acquiesced, toweling off her face before leaving her stuff with an attendant as they entered the press room.

“Amberle!” “Ms. Ellessidil!” “How do you feel-” “makes her such a strong opponent-” “think you’re ready for Melbourne-”

She shook her head at the deluge of questions, motioning for everyone to settle down.

“One at a time, please, these ears can only catch so much!” The reporters chuckled at the reference to her uniquely-pointed “Ellessidil Ears,” which had inspired several lines of popular merchandise, and in turn delighted her sponsors.

“Amberle! Do you feel threatened by your new competitor Eretria Rover, the up and coming American star who could possibly be in your bracket at the Australian Open?”

“Oh...?” She glanced sharply at her uncle Ander, who doubled as her informal manager and coach. He hadn’t mentioned this new girl in her morning briefing, and she hated being caught off-guard. Realizing she hadn’t answered the question yet, Amberle coughed quickly and flashed a composed smile.

“Well, I always welcome new competitors in the tour and if I do end up playing her I am confident it will be an enjoyable match of tennis.”

“Right, but this new competitor seems to be the biggest potential obstacle for you on your path to the finals. How do you plan to prepare for matches with her style of play?”

Amberle’s smile was becoming more of a wince. She hoped Ander could feel her annoyance radiating out from across the room.

“I usually try not to adapt my practice routine too drastically just to adapt to one possible opponent, especially before the brackets are finalized, but I assure you I will be doing appropriate preparations for whatever matches may come my way. Now, I would like to be beginning my recuperation and recovery for the next match, so are there any more questions about today?”

Soon, the clamor began again and she rattled off a few standard responses to predictable questions before taking her leave.

As soon as Amberle and her people left the room, she grabbed Ander’s elbow, taking mild satisfaction in his hasty gulp and uncomfortable look.

“Dearest Uncle,” she began sweetly, before sharply dropping her tone. “Who is this girl?”

Ander sighed.

“She actually just started hitting the news cycles around noon. I might’ve mentioned her to you if you didn’t insist on having your briefing at 5:30 am,” he leveled an unimpressed look at her, “but as it was, this girl — Eretria Rover, I think? — actually won her match today, which was a huge upset. So her ranking shot up, but it’s been slowly climbing for the past year unnoticed. She’s just broken into the top twenty now.”

Amberle’s heart dropped. She was looking to break into the top ten any match now. If this girl was seriously a threat, her careful strategy could be ruined.

“An American climbing the ranks so fast, who would’ve thought?” Ander shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s all I have for now. You’ll have to look her up yourself, later.”

Amberle huffed. She certainly would.

Later that night, freshly showered and well-ensconced in a fluffy blanket on her hotel room bed, Amberle typed in “iretrea rover” in the google search bar (“did you mean: eretria rover?” Well, she supposed she did). She was met with a helpful white box containing basic facts about the girl — the rather pretty girl, she noted with a small note of disappointment. Not only was she a formidable opponent tennis-wise, but in looks as well? Amberle could already see the media pitting them against each other, sponsors choosing whoever won the weekly “who wore it best” poll to endorse.

She was only 23, a year younger than Amberle, and American, as Ander had said. Clicking through the search results, Amberle tried to glean a sense of what this girl was like, on and off the court. 

Phrases stuck out as she skimmed the pages: “powerful, aggressive style of play”, “a cannon shot of a serve”, “rushing to the net like it’s gold in 1850 California”, and then “personality as dominant as her game”, “rebellious and brash”, “boldly outspoken”.

On a whim, Amberle typed her own name into the search bar. Checking the stats on her own white box—mostly correct—she couldn’t help but smile at the small label under her picture: “French tennis player.” She was a professional, and even the internet knew it. Those three words let anyone who looked her up know just who Amberle Elessedil was — a tennis player, and a good one at that. This Rover girl wouldn’t stand a chance. Nothing was going to throw Amberle off her game.


	2. collision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is more of a filler chapter. hope it's alright anyway.

“You’re off your game, Amb.” Wil shook his head after she slammed yet another shot into the net. “Is it that new protein bar Ander had you try? I _told_ him to stop giving you his weird Swedish health nut stuff, it’ll mess with your diet.”

 

Amberle huffed frustratedly. “No, it’s not that. Although they _are_ disgusting, and you should remind him again. I can’t say no when he says it’s his dentist’s son’s best friend’s new company or something.”

 

Wil nodded sympathetically. “Well, what is it then? We gotta get you back on track for Melbourne.”

 

“I don’t know, I just...can’t get my headspace right. Can we just take a break and come back this afternoon?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Hey, I think that Rover girl is scheduled to practice here today—you know, the one the media’s all buzzed about. We can try and scout her out, get a feel for her playing style? I bet we can find out which court she’s on.”

 

“Sure, Wil. You always know what to do.”

 

Yawning as she stretched — stayed up too late last night studying court strategy — Amberle loped quickly down the stairs, foregoing the elevator as usual. As she swung open the door to the lobby she heard a muffled _thunk_ , followed by not so quiet swear words.

 

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” she gasped, peering around the door to see a furious girl sprawled on the ground.

 

“Who the fuck taught you how to open doors?!” she muttered, dusting herself off as she stood up. “Fucking 100 mph- oh, shit. It’s you.”

 

Seeing her face clearly for the first time, Amberle must have mirrored the same horrified realization. After an awkward pause, the girl stuck out her hand for Amberle to dumbly shake.

 

“Eretria Rover. You’re Elessedil, aren’t you? I’d say nice to meet you, but it really wasn’t.” She rubbed her forehead for emphasis.

 

“I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-” Amberle’s mind was racing. She could see the headlines already — “Smack of Sabotage: Elessedil Takes Out Rising Competition!” Desperate to correct the situation she shot out an arm to help the girl up, which she reluctantly took. Her hands were a lot more calloused than her own, Amberle noted absentmindedly, which was saying something since as a pro tennis player hers weren’t exactly smooth, either.

 

“I’ll get over it, I guess.” Eretria shrugged it off. “No bad blood on the circuit, right? I’ll just assume it was an accident.”

 

“Yes! Of course, I- yes, I’m so sorry again,” Amberle began babbling.

 

“No worries. Just...stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. I’ll see you around, Princess,” Eretria muttered before turning the corner.

 

Amberle was left standing there, unspoken apologies still flooding from her gaping mouth, and a few questions, too. Could she really trust her not to mention this to anyone else? How were they supposed to stay out of each other’s way when they were bound to play a match? “ _Princess_ ”?

 

She whipped out her phone and sent a text to Wil.

 

**9:46am**

I think I’m actually just going to go back to the room and rest before lunch. Go ahead and scout her, lmk what you see.

 

**9:52am**

sure, hope u feel better soon :/

 

Amberle was already asleep at that point, caught in a restless haze of hazel eyes.

 

//

 

Later, Wil tells her about what she expected. Rover is a strong competitor, with a powerful backhand and wicked sharp angles. Her weaknesses seem to be shots that require a light touch, which unfortunately aren’t needed very often on the tour. And her lean, chiseled figure paired with a sharp tongue has made her quite the media darling.

 

Amberle groaned into her pillow. Just what she needed.

 

“She asked me about you, you know.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Yeah. But I can’t tell you. She swore me to secrecy.”

 

“ _What?!_ Wil, are you kidding? What the- why- you- Why would you even tell me that if you can’t tell me what you asked? Are you serious? You’re literally my best friend, and this Rover gets you on her side in one day? What did she bribe you with?”

 

He held up in hands in protest.

 

“I don’t know, I thought you’d at least like to know she asked! She’s, uh, kinda scary. She said if I told she’d find out and...do things to me. She has tattoos, Amb! And she’s an American! You have no idea what those people are capable of!”

 

“Wil…shut up.”

 

“You know I can’t.”

 

“Brackets!” Ander burst into the hotel suite, brandishing a packet of papers in the air and waving it madly. “Melbourne brackets are up!”

 

The two already in the room practically fell over themselves in their haste to glean a glance at the papers, tossed haphazardly on the kitchenette counter while Ander left as flamboyantly as he came.

 

“Please tell me I’m not against Halep again,” Amberle pleaded. “My ranking can’t take another whipping from her. God, what is it about those Romanians…”

 

Wil shook his head. “Nah, you’re against some 86th seed. But you’ve still got some heavy hitters in your bracket...looks like Svitolina, Wozniacki, oh, hey. Your new biggest threat.”

 

Amberle’s face paled.

 

“Oh, no…”

 

“Oh, yes.” Wil waved the bracket at her, face stretched by that ever-present grin. “Looks like that matchup with Rover’s gonna be sooner than you thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just throwing in actual tennis player's names at random. i have no idea how the actual ranking works. what do you guys think should happen over the course of the story? i'm looking for ideas

**Author's Note:**

> i am a professional procrastinator so if you like it please leave some form of feedback to motivate me to continue. thanks


End file.
